


I Can Tell By the Way You Carry Yourself

by asterism87



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-04
Updated: 2015-05-04
Packaged: 2018-03-25 00:09:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3789361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asterism87/pseuds/asterism87
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You might not be jumping off the battlements but this, not sleeping and suffering silently, is killing you."</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Can Tell By the Way You Carry Yourself

The words were illegible, the characters slithering off the page and blurring into oblivion. Sleep was undeniably what he needed right now, but there was so much left to do. The reports never stopped coming. Every time he finished something there was suddenly a scout in his office handing him reports about the civil war in the Exalted Plains or the movements of the Venatori out west. There was always an update, always a segment of troops that needed to be moved and notified, always a list of names that he had to reach out to.

There were always families that had to be consoled and compensated.

Cullen was exhausted, but just the thought of closing his eyes and sleeping when there was so much happening felt like betrayal. He sighed, running a hand through his hair.

A light cough came from across the room. Delrin was leaning against the door, his dark casual clothes a stark contrast to the shiny grey of his templar armor. It wasn't often that Cullen got to see him like this, even with the number of years that they'd known each other. His face was soft, his clothes slightly rumpled, as if he had just rolled out of bed.

"You do realize that everyone has gone to bed hours ago," Delrin said softly, his sleep deepened voice carrying perfectly well across the room.

"I know you don't have to say anything. I just have some work that I need to finish," Cullen said as he ran a hand over his face, as if that would be enough to wipe the fog and delirium from his mind. Delrin shifted then, pushing himself off the door. Cullen watched him cross the room, searching his face for any signs of anger or disappointment. All he saw was weariness. He knew he was running himself ragged but there were somethings that were more important than his daily 8 hours.

Delrin sank into the chair opposite Cullen, the desk serving as a wooden barrier between them.

"If this is your way of proving that you can make it without the lyrium then I'd say that you've made your point," his tone more defeated than anything else.

"Delrin I really can't do this right now."

"You need to sleep Cullen."

"I'll sleep when I'm dead."

Delrin was silent, his lips drawn into a frown. He turned his head slightly, his gaze directed towards the windows, the stark blackness of night still present behind the panes, stars blurry pinpoints of light; perhaps they could provide him the answers to Cullen's stubbornness. 

"I know that you want to give the very best of yourself to this, and I don't disagree, but you need to take care of yourself. What good are the troops if their commander can barely think straight?" Delrin turned his head back to Cullen then, his eyes beseeching, a sadness there that rarely made itself out. Cullen reached across the table and placed his hand palm up. Delrin grabbed it, squeezed.

"I know but..." Cullen's voice trailing off, unsure how to continue.

"Yes?" Delrin said. Cullen looked down at where their hands lay joined on his desk, their connection laying atop the cluttered mess that his desk had become in the past few weeks. It had become more paper, melted wax and empty tankards than anything else. The wood was almost begging to be released from its prison.

Cullen sighed, his free hand rubbing the back of his neck. "I've never done anything worth doing Delrin. I was a templar, yes, but all that gave me was a lyrium addiction that will never truly fade and a hatred of mages that they don't deserve. All I've done is take. I've taken the lives of mages and I've taken the lives of young people who truly didn't know what being a templar entails and now I'm taking the lives of those who believe in this cause. I've never given anything but senseless violence to those who don't deserve it. I don't deserve this Delrin. I don't deserve this place and I don't deserve the Inquisition and I certainly don't deserve the trust of those under me."

"Cullen you can't keep beating yourself up over the past."

"But I can't exactly let go of it either now can I."

"I'm not asking you to let go of the past, I'm telling you to stop using it as an excuse. You think you're atoning but you're just hurting yourself."

"But I have so much to atone for now don't I?"

Delrin looked at him, his face softening. "We all have things we need to atone for."

"Some of us more than others."

"Does leading the Inquisition's forces to defend Thedas not count then? Does routinely sending money to Kirkwall to aid in rebuilding the Circle suddenly become meaningless? Does having a small regiment dedicated to aiding mages count for nothing?" Cullen was silent, frozen. "You're not living in sin Cullen. You're repenting and becoming a better man. Why do you refuse to see the good in yourself?"

"Perhaps because there's not much there." Cullen tried to keep his face neutral, to prevent the tiredness and ache from oozing where Delrin could see it.

Delrin was silent, his eyes sweeping over Cullen's face. Softly, he said,"Killing yourself won't solve this. You might not be jumping off the battlements but this, not sleeping and suffering silently, is killing you."

"I'm not trying to kill myself."

"Yes, you are. You're just hiding it under the guise of helping the Inquisition. You can't help anyone when you're dead Cullen. You can't fix things when you're dead."

***

Cullen sat on the edge of his bed, stripping off the metal and fur that had become his daily uniform. Delrin lay behind him, breathing slow as he waited patiently for Cullen to join him under the covers. The room was silent, the atmosphere peaceful. When Cullen had finally stripped down to a pair of soft pants, his armor neatly arranged on a patch of clean floor, he crawled into bed, burying himself into Delrin's chest. Delrin brought his arms around him, rubbing soothing circles into his back as Cullen's breathing evened out.

Finally, he slept.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading :) completely unbeta'd so if there are any problems please let me know :D


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